


Starmora: Engaged

by solarsaros



Series: Starmora: I Have Told You I Love You, Haven't I? [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Marvel Universe, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Starmora
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-05-16 20:06:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19325176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarsaros/pseuds/solarsaros
Summary: A collection of Gamora and Peter Quill/Star-Lord moments as an engaged couple. Starmora. Second in the series 'I Have Told You I Love You, Haven't I?'.ON HIATUS





	1. The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I wrote this at 3am - I hope it's okay, I did proofread but sometimes I miss stuff. This chapter is Peter's proposal. Enjoy!

Peter tried to steady his breathing as he lay there. Gamora, who was cuddled into his side, lay completely spend and, he hoped, not about to wake any time soon. He had to admit, the night before had been exhausting, not for just them but the entire team. They’d had a day off from saving the Galaxy, and many more days to come, pretty much emptied the entire contents of their liquor cabinet, and none of them were very good at handling their liquor. 

Well, all except for Gamora, who wasn’t a big fan of alcohol anyway, but when she did have it, she was capable of keeping it down and staying steady. But she’d allowed herself to let loose that night, something Peter found made him happy and more relaxed himself, and she’d gotten drunk. Very drunk. So drunk, in fact, she’d fallen asleep wearing his jacket after she’d insisted she wear it during sex; something she’d certainly never wanted before. 

Peter had loved every second of it; getting to make love to her then cuddle her as she lay in a bundle in his favourite leather jacket. But now he was panicking, and praying to God she wouldn’t wake up before he’d figured out a plan. He’d gotten caught up in the moment the previous night and completely forgotten what was in the inside pocket of his jacket. 

He had seen how much Gamora had drunk, believed she was thoroughly intoxicated, but, now, he was praying she hadn’t been sober enough to have felt the small box, thinking that maybe she hadn’t been as drunk as he had thought. He wasn’t sure, if she had felt it, if she would even know what it was. He didn’t know what the custom was when it came to proposing marriage where she came from.

Slowly, he slipped his hand under the jacket, face screwed up in concentration as he tried not to touch her. Though he stilled when she stirred against him, letting his hand fall to her skin, hoping his hand would prevent the box from touching her. He wasn’t ready for her to know yet, wasn’t ready to propose. He had no idea what to say, didn’t know if he was supposed to get down on one knee or not, and, most importantly, was too scared of her rejection in that moment.

“Hey,” he smiled, trying not to gulp.

“Hi,” she smiled back, head leaving the pillow so she could kiss him. “I feel strange.”

“You drank more than the teams body weight combined, that’s why,” he laughed.

“It takes a lot for me to get drunk,” she shrugged, her hands coming up to play with the hair on the back of his neck. She didn’t know it, but that small act, which she probably hadn’t even thought about, was incredibly soothing for him right then. “You’re really sweaty.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, trying to disguise his nerves. “When you’re sleeping next to the hottest woman in the galaxy, it’s hard not to get sweaty.”

Gamora rolled her eyes, but pulled him down to kiss him. He tried not to get too caught up in it, and failed, letting a moan escape him and feeling Gamora smile against his lips.

“We should shower,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “Sleeping in your jacket seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I feel really hot and gross.”

An idea popped into Peter’s head then and he kissed her deeply, pushing her a bit into the mattress. She hummed happily, her hands smoothing over his neck and shoulders as he worked his own hand, gently, into the pocket of his jacket. He could have cheered, fist-bumped himself, and did a little happy dance when he removed the box and successfully hid it behind his back without her noticing a thing. 

“Why don’t you go turn it on and I’ll sort us some clothes out,” he said, rolling onto his back with the box under him.

“Okay,” she said, getting up after kissing him once more and he caught the strange look she gave him. "Why are you lying like that?"

Pulling his hand out from under him, ditching the box, he shrugged.

Giving him another strange look, she shrugged off his jacket, hanging it up, removed his gun holster that she'd also been wearing, which he’d completely forgotten about and was oddly aroused at the sight of her in it briefly, then slipped into their bathroom.

Looking around desperately for a new spot for the box, he hopped out of bed, tripping on the sheets. He decided shoving it in his underwear drawer wouldn’t be the worst place for it for now, and ran his hands through his hair with a relieved sigh.

“Peter!” he jumped at Gamora’s voice, grabbing clothes for them and hurried into the bathroom and into the shower.

“Are you okay?” she asked, a curious look in her eye.

“Fine, fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, moving so he was behind her, so she couldn’t see his flushed face.

“You’re being… weird, and you’ve gone very red.”

Dammit, she’d already spotted it.

“Pfft, no I haven’t,” he shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it, and wrapped his arms around her waist, restricting her from turning around. “And I ain’t being weird, I’m always like this.”

“Yes, you’re always weird, I know,” she teased, and Peter feigned offence with a gasp. “But you are acting stranger than normal, and you’re flushed all the way down to your chest.”

That was something he couldn’t deny to himself, he was very red. He didn’t know if it was from the anxiety from the idea of her finding the ring and him not being prepared, panicking because he hadn’t known where to hide it, or because Gamora always had the shower piping hot. It was so hot that he struggled to breathe sometimes, but he’d gotten kind of used to it after all the showers they’d shared. Even the... old her had had the temperature of her showers so ridiculously hot that he had recoiled the first time he'd stepped into it.

“Wanna start with your hair?” he asked, hoping she’d move on.

“Sure,” she said, a light shrug, and relief waved over Peter.

Washing her hair for her had been something Peter had done many times, with this version of herself and the other. Even after two years of being with this Gamora, he still wasn’t quite sure how to refer to her other self. He knew they were the same person, just from different points in time. It had been strange at first, when he’d met her again, because he knew her as his Gamora but she hadn’t had a clue who he was. 

When they’d first started dating, the second time, he’d been beyond grateful that the Universe had given them a second chance, and he still was, but it hadn’t felt… right. He’d felt guilty for a while, believing he’d betrayed the Gamora he’d known for so many years, thinking she was somehow watching him and broken-hearted at the sight of him with another woman.

He’d shared his concerns with Mantis and she’d told him that, if that Gamora could see him, she would be happy he had found her again, happy he was happy, and would want him to continue living his life with her no matter what version of her it was. Mantis had made it clear to him that this Gamora wasn’t another woman, she was the same woman, his Gamora. 

That had made him feel a lot better, allowed him to open up more to this Gamora and love her just as much as he’d always done. But there were still times when he felt a pang of guilt or sadness, especially when it came to moments like this where he was performing a simple yet intimate act for her.

“Peter.”

Shaking his head a little to refocus, he realised his hands had stilled in her hair.

“Sorry. Got lost in thought for a sec.”

“Anything you want to share?” she prompted, turning her head a bit to look at him over her shoulder.

“No, no, I’m all good,” he said, forcing a smile.

Gamora didn’t say anything else, just turned back to looking at the wall, but he could feel the way she tensed.

“I mean it,” he said, turning her with his hand on her shoulder so they were face-to-face and she could step back into the stream of water to rinse her hair. “I’m fine,” he provided a more genuine smile now, comforted by being able to look into her eyes and see she was real.

Then she closed them as he combed his hands through her hair, massaging her head as he did, hoping it would relax her.

“Your turn,” she told him when he was done, stepping around him and he closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of the hot water against his face. He was starting to get used to it now.

He rubbed the shampoo into his own hair, and tipped his head so the water could hit it. 

He grew even hotter at the feeling of her arms around him and her body pressed to his back.

“I love you,” he heard her mumble, feeling it between his shoulder blades.

“I know,” he gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “I love you, too.”

/

“Have you asked her yet?”

Peter looked from Gamora, who was sat on the floor with Groot as they sorted through Groot’s old toys, to Mantis.

“Shhh,” he pressed his finger to his lips, shooing Mantis out of the room and rushing out after her. “Not yet, no. And you gotta be quiet about it.” 

It was later in the evening now, and Peter still hadn’t worked out how he was going to ask Gamora to marry him. He’d had the ring for weeks now, and still not come up with anything.

“I don’t know how,” he added.

“What do you mean?” asked Mantis, her forehead crinkled.

“I mean, like, how the hell do I ask her? I’ve never done this before.”

“I have not done it before either. I still do not understand why you had to get a ring.”

“It’s a symbol. It’s like… like she wears it to show she’s engaged to someone, to like, y’know, show our commitment to one another.”

Mantis smiled widely, hands held over her heart, but suddenly frowned. “Why do you not get an engagement ring?”

“I don’t know, it’s just the way Terran’s do it. I get a ring later, on the wedding day, and she gets another one to go with her engagement ring.”

Mantis smiled once again, “That is beautiful. Gamora likes rings, she has many. She will be very happy.”

"Yeah," Peter scratched nervously at his neck, “I just wish I knew how to ask her, y'know.”

“All you need to do is tell her how much you love her. You love her a lot, we can all see that. Then ask her.”

Peter mumbled, “I wish it was that simple.”

“It is.”

“What if she says no? That’s gonna be fricking embarrassing,” he sounded offended, as though Gamora had just told him ‘no’.

“She will not say no.”

“Peter?”

Peter and Mantis both jumped at Gamora’s voice and Peter whirled around, meeting her eyes. He knew he must look incredibly guilty, and the redness in his cheeks and neck was definitely creeping back up.

“Groot is asking for you,” she said, though she looked them both over as she spoke, and folded her arms.

“Be right there,” he said, far too fast to sound innocent.

“Is everything okay? You are very red, again, Peter.”

“Everything’s fine,” he nodded, quickly, rushing past her. This was going to be so much harder than he thought.

/

It was the next day and Peter was sat on their bed, waiting for Gamora to come out of the bathroom. He was ready to ask her now, but couldn’t stop his body from shaking. One of his legs hadn’t stopped bouncing up and down since he’d sat down, and his fingers had been drumming against his other leg for what felt like forever. 

The click of the bathroom door shutting stopped his nervous tics and he looked to her, watching as she towel-dried her hair that had caused little damp patches across the shoulder of his shirt that she wore. He gulped; he loved this sight. Every time she looked so comfortable and at ease, he couldn’t help but stare, and the fact that she was wearing his shirt, her legs bare, sure did help. His heart rate shot up just from the sight of her, and the pounding in his ears grew louder.

“Quill, you are staring,” she smirked, and Peter shook himself out of his trance.

“You just,” he cleared his throat. “Look beautiful.”

She folded the towel, placing it down, and walked to him. He smiled up at her as she rested her hands on his shoulders, shuffling her legs between his knees.

“Thank you,” she moved one hand to the back of his neck and he closed his eyes as she laced her fingers through the hair there. “You are handsome.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, feeling entranced by her touch. He always did. 

“I have told you I love you, haven’t I, Peter Quill?” she asked, even though she knew, and her hand came back around to hold his chin between her thumb and finger.

“Once or twice,” he said, opening his eyes.

His insides fluttered at the look on her face. Love was always evident in her eyes when she looked at him, but right now it was more intense than usual. 

“I love you,” she said, tilting his head up with the hand on his chin and catching his lips in a gentle kiss.

He reached up, playing with the wet magenta tips of her hair, when she pulled back. Resting his head against her chest, he slid his hands around her waist and moved them gently up and down her back, as she stroked his hair. 

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Just enjoying the moment,” he mumbled into her shirt. 

She kissed the top of his head, making him smile and nuzzle his face into her, thoroughly loving the embrace. But eventually he pulled back, resting his hands on her hips and looked up at her. 

“What?” she asked, bemused.

“I love you, too.”

“I know,” she said, nodding with a small smile, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs.

“I, uh, I also… have something to – to tell, uh, ask you,” he stammered. Now was the time, and his stomach was twisting itself into knots.

“Oh?”

Wiping his sweaty hands on his boxers, he bit his lip and his eyes flicked to the pillow beside him where he had hidden the ring box. 

“I’m gonna ramble for a minute, so just bear with me.”

Gamora nodded, and sat on his knee, one of her hands moving back to his neck to soothe him. He was incredibly nervous and he knew she could tell, so he was grateful.

“We’ve been through a lot, you and me, I know to you we’ve only been together for two years but… it’s been so much longer for me… and after I lost you… I… thought that was it,” he cleared his throat. “I felt like there was no point in going on if it meant living without you. I know that probably sounds dramatic,” he chuckled, now wasn’t the time to get emotional over the past. “But, that’s genuinely how I felt. I love you, so, so much, Gamora. I never wanna lose you again.”

“You won’t,” she said, sounding so sure.

“I – I hope not. I’m… I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. You’ve been through a heck of a lot in your life and still manage to be this amazing, compassionate, beautiful woman; you’re truly something. The way you are with the rest of the team is amazing, you treat everyone like family even though we’re not. You’re just – you’re just awesome,” he finished. He wanted to say more, continue to praise her and tell her how much he loved her but he was struggling now, he needed to get it over with.

Gamora smiled, her eyes looked shiny in the dim light and Peter almost choked at the look on her face.

“That’s why,” he reached under the pillow and pulled out the box. “I want to – well, I want to, y’know, ask you to, uh-” he cut himself off when Gamora moved her hands from him and widened her eyes at the box.

“That is what I felt!” she declared, pointing at it.

“W-what?”

“In your jacket – I was wondering what kept poking me.”

“Do you… do you know what it is? Why I’ve got it?” he asked.

“I think I have read about it,” she nodded, looking back to him with a small smile. “Though, I would prefer it if you asked the question.”

Peter gulped and opened the box, revealing the ring. He held it in between them with a shaking hand and said, “’Mora, will you – will you marry me?”

Gamora’s smile grew and she cupped his face, “I will.”

Peter could have fainted with relief as the anxiety that had been weighing him down lifted. Picking up the ring, his hand a little steadier now, he slipped it onto her finger. 

“Rocket helped me figure out the circumference. You have very small fingers,” he chuckled and played with them as he spoke.

The awe on her face as she examined the ring was enough to make his heart practically melt. 

“I didn’t know if people were given rings when proposed to on your planet or not.”

“I do not know either. My mother had many rings, but I do not know whether they were from being proposed to,” she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and kissed him. “I like this Terran tradition.”

“I was hoping you would,” he smiled.

“Shall we,” she gently pushed him so he lay down with her on top of him. “Celebrate?”

“Oh, definitely,” he mumbled into her lips.


	2. Cleaning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while for me to finish for some reason, and it isn't as well written as I would like it to be but hey-ho

Cool air hitting his bare back wasn’t always the most pleasant way for Peter to wake up. He hated the cold, and couldn’t figure out where the hell the blanket had gone as he felt around but he refused to open his eyes to help himself find it. 

“Wake up, Peter.”

The poking in his back was also unpleasant, making him roll his face more into the pillow and swat behind him at whatever was bothering him.

“Five more minutes, ‘Mora,” he murmured into his pillow. It was the day after he’d proposed to her, and he was exhausted. He and Gamora had spent most of the night consummating their engagement, yet Gamora had managed to get out of bed on the morning and go about her day. He had stayed in bed, napping; she’d worn him out. 

Hearing her sigh, he thought for a moment that he had been successful in getting her to leave him alone. Then she spoke. 

“Peter, I’m taking my clothes off.”

Peter groaned, “Not falling for that again.”

That was a trick she liked to play on him all too often, and he would almost always fall for it. He groaned when she slipped her arm under his armpit, her hand curving over his shoulder, pressing herself to his back and nuzzling her face into his nape. Then his eyes shot open.

“Oh, you did take them off,” he tried not to sound too pleased, but couldn’t help but smile.

“Mmm,”

“What does this mean?” he rolled over, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“It means,” she said breathily, her arm draping over his side as she inched even closer to him. Her warm breath hit his lips and his body immediately reacted to her, “I am going to take my nap now, while you clean the ship.”

Peter shifted his head back from hers, his brow furrowed, “What?!”

It was now Gamora’s turn to smile, and she pushed Peter away from her until he was near the edge of the bed.

“Do I have to?” he groaned.

“Groot and Mantis got that pink dust everywhere, and Drax destroyed the kitchen when he made breakfast.”

“So, make them clean it up.”

“We are always cleaning up after you, Peter. It is your turn,” she insisted.

“But,” he started but faltered under Gamora’s glare. “Fine,” he huffed, and got up to pull on his sweatpants.

Gamora stayed lying on her side, tucking the blanket under her chin and sighing happily as she closed her eyes.

“So, you’re just… gonna sleep, like… naked?”

“You of all people know how much I enjoy doing that.”

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he whined.

“Let’s hope not or else who am I going to force into cleaning up.”

/

Peter’s hips swayed to his own humming as he wiped a rag over a shelf. He was bored out of his mind. Cleaning wasn’t fun, and anyone, according to Peter, who thinks different is just plain weird. 

Looking over his shoulder, he caught Gamora frowning to herself just before she rolled so she wasn’t facing him. He stopped humming and put the rag on his shoulder, sneaking up to the bed. He started singing, loudly, feeling pleased with himself when Gamora groaned and rolled onto her back, glaring at him. 

“What? I sing when I clean.”

“You never clean,” she said, not sounding at all impressed by his antics.

“Okay, well, I sing.”

“And not well, it seems.”

Peter gasped dramatically, placing his hand over his heart. “Ouch, you’re mean when you’re tired.”

“Whose fault is that,” she rolled her eyes. “Did you clean up the –”

“Dust – yep. Kitchen – yep.”

“Good,” she said with a small smile, closed her eyes and turned back onto her side. “Now be quiet.”

“Just cleaning is boring,” he huffed. “I wanna sing, and dance, and –”

“Dancing does not require you to make noise.”

Peter rolled his eyes, pulling the rag off his shoulder, then eyed her up and down. “Girls sleep weird. How is that position comfortable?” 

She was covered by the sheets but Peter could tell one of her legs was tucked up, her up body twisted slightly so she was somehow on her side and her stomach, and her hands were nestled under the pillows.

Gamora ignored his question, and said, “’Girls sleep weird’?”

“… Yeah.”

“Your fiancée is trying to rest here, Quill, and you are being annoying.”

“Say that again.”

“What?”

“The ‘fiancée’ word; I like hearing it,” he said, joyfully, feeling giddy.

“Do you, now?”

One of her eyes had opened and she was teasing him with a small smirk.

“It’s hot. You’re hot,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

She shook her head fondly, then closed her eye. Peter crept up to the bed again, resting a knee on it and leaning over her. Pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her head, he trailed his hand down her arm, making her shiver. She turned her head, capturing his lips and Peter couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

“Peter,” she said into their kiss.

“Mmm.”

“You are not getting out of cleaning.”

“Dammit,” he moved back, and with a sigh added, “Fiancées are bossy.”

“Girls are weird sleepers. Fiancées are bossy. I cannot wait to find out what wives are,” she said dryly, fully on her stomach now with her face buried in the pillow. “Get back to the cleaning, Quill.”

“Back at it again with the last name, damn,” he chuckled, reluctantly getting back to the task at hand.

Though, it didn’t take Peter long to start annoying Gamora once more.

“I need to change the sheets,” he said suddenly, tugging on the sheet from where he stood at the bottom of the bed.

“What?” said Gamora, sounding incredulous.

“They’re dirty from last night.”

Gamora growled into the pillow as Peter tugged on her ankles. 

“Peter,” she warned.

“Hey, it’s not my fault,” he defended.

“I think I disagree,” she mumbled into the pillow, but Peter could tell she was smiling.

He stopped pulling on her ankles and moved back to the sheet.

“Peter,” she warned, again. “Do not. I am naked.”

“Nothing I ain’t already seen,” he said, shrugging, yanking the sheets down to the backs of her knees. 

Gamora made an exasperated noise, turning onto her back and glaring at him for the third time that day.

“What?” he asked, but he knew perfectly well what.

“You are insufferable.”

“Aw, thanks, babe,” he grinned, moving to pull the sheets completely off the bed but a green hand wrapped around his arm and tugged him down.

Was she playfighting with him? Naked?

It wasn’t exactly something brand new, he had done it all those years ago with the other version of her, but it was new for them.

After rolling around on the bed, tangling themselves in the sheets, she pinned him down. Her knees pressed into the bed either side of his waist, and she leaned over him, hands holding down his forearms, and her hair in his face. He was in heaven.

“Heaven? Really, Peter?”

He must have said that part out loud.

“Hey, when I die, this is what I want heaven to be like,” he said, honestly.

“You’re not going to die.”

“Well, I mean, I am someday –"

“Don’t,” she cut in. 

The playful look in her eyes was slowly fading and Peter sighed.

“Sorry, I –"

“It’s okay.”

Her hands cupped his face, and her fingertips trailed up and down his cheeks as she looked at him. It was a look he knew all too well; she was thinking about what it would be like if he wasn’t there, remembering every little detail of him in case one day he disappeared and she had nothing but her memories. Her thumbs traced over his lips, then over his eyebrows, before she moved her fingers to stroke his hair from his forehead. 

He had small faint scars there, he always forgot about them until Gamora was having a moment like this and ran her fingers and eyes over them. She would get upset when his body would scar. He could remember countless times when she had cursed his Terran physiology for being so ‘pathetic’, but he knew that she only got so angry because she didn’t want him to be hurt.

His hands rubbed up and down her waist, comforting her. He hated when she was thinking like this, but enjoyed the way she touched him, and the way she poured out all of her love for him just through the way she looked at him.

She bent down, kissing him softly, and his hands moved to the small of her back to hold her closer. Then she pulled back, running her hands down his chest, before getting off him to lay on her side beside him. 

“Let’s forget about the cleaning, for now,” she said, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. 

He smiled, moving his hand to run through the curls of her hair. His fingers rested at the base of her skull, massaging it to relax her. Eyes fluttering closed, she hummed at his touch. He kissed her, tenderly, moving slowly to try and show her, somehow, how much he cared. 

“I love you,” he pulled back enough to look at her face.

“I love you, too, more than anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and kudos always make my day :) (thanks for them on my other fics too)


	3. Traditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this one quick. I think it makes sense... we'll soon see

One month. That’s how long it had been since Peter proposed to Gamora. An entire month. To Peter it somehow felt like a lifetime ago, but only seconds ago at the same time. Part of him couldn’t believe they were engaged at all. They’d been through so much, he thought for sure they’d never live to experience something like being engaged – they both almost hadn’t.

All of him was incredibly thankful, of course, that he and Gamora were to get married but he hadn’t thought of how complex the planning would be. At least he found it complex.

He knew that weddings weren’t easy to plan, but, what with him being from Terra and Gamora being from Zen-Whoberi, it was proving to be even more difficult. Peter wanted to include elements from each of their cultures in the ceremony, Gamora, on-the-other-hand, wasn’t as bothered by this. She wouldn’t voice her opinions on how she felt, though, and this only stressed Peter out more.

Instead of letting him search files for information on her planet’s wedding ceremonies, she was avoiding it and trying to focus solely on his planet’s traditions. Peter couldn’t quite understand why she was behaving that way. 

“What do the bride and bridegroom wear to weddings on Terra?” she asked.

“Well, the guy wears, like, this really fancy suit. The woman wears a white dress,” he replied, watching her jot down what he was saying.

“I cannot imagine you in a suit,” she said, scrunching her nose. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t look good in one, I just can’t imagine it,” she was quick to add after he creased his brow in faux offence.

“I can’t imagine you wearing anything white.”

“I will wear it, if that is part of the traditional Terran ceremony. If that’s what you want?” she asked, her eyes darting between his, he could tell she was trying to read his emotions.

“We don’t have to stick strictly to the Terran traditions. How about we search what the bride and bridegroom wear to weddings on your –”

“– What about the… what did you call them… maids?” she butted in, giving up on looking up at and focusing instead on her notes.

“Bridesmaids. They wear dresses too, the bride picks them out, though… I think. Why don’t we –”

She’d continued to cut him off, and though it frustrated Peter, he let her do so.

He proceeded to tell her about the maid-of-honour tradition, the tiered wedding cake, the song, and the first dance as a married couple.

“We should definitely do that one,” he beamed.

“The dance?” she asked, and he nodded eagerly. “Okay,” she nodded in return, adding it to her list.

Biting his lip, he sneakily reached for the screen in front of him, barely having time to so much as touch it before Gamora’s head snapped up.

“What are you doing?”

“I was just… I was gonna search up some stuff about your planet – I don’t find it fair that we are taking note of all of my planet’s traditions and not yours.”

“Peter,” she began with a sigh. “Don’t.”

“What? It’s not fair.”

“Not fair on me, or not fair on you?” she quirked an eyebrow, putting down her pen.

What was that supposed to mean, he thought.

“On you, obviously,” he replied.

“Has me avoiding the subject every time you have brought it up, not been a clear enough sign that I do not want you to search for it?”

It definitely was a clear enough sign; he just didn’t understand why she didn’t want him to do it. Gamora not being an open book was difficult sometimes, this moment proving to be one of those times.

Sitting back in her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared him down.

“But why don’t you want me to?” he decided to just go for it and ask.

“Why do I need to explain myself?” she shot back.

“You… you don’t. Look, I just – I just want you to be able to, like, have an equal part in this.”

“Peter,” she began, taking his hand in hers. “Please, just let this go.”

She was looking at him with the same pleading eyes that had broken his heart all those years ago before Drax had interrupted them with his ‘invisible man’ nonsense.

“Okay,” he said, reluctantly, with a nod. "Promise."

Moving her hand to his face, she ran her thumb over his cheek and offered him her warmest smile.

/

He was a good fiancé, he really was, he normally always kept his promises, but he couldn’t take it any longer. He wanted to know. It was slowly driving him crazy. So, he snuck out of their bedroom later that night, creeping up to the console and typing in what he was desperate to search for.

He didn’t so much as get past the ‘n’ before he heard her angry voice behind him.

“You better not be doing what I think you’re doing, Peter Quill.”

Busted.

Turning slowly, his face screwed up, sure he looked like a kid who’d just been caught sneaking candy, he looked at her, guilty. She was leaning against the wall, arms folded, and a bitter look on her face.

“You said you wouldn’t,” she said, her tone laced with disappointment and betrayal.

“I’m sorry. I just wanna know.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“But why? I don’t get why.”

Her shoulders slumped, she sighed, and looked to the floor. The sour look on her face now faded and replaced with of sadness and exasperation.

“I told you to drop this.”

“Just tell me why you don’t wanna know.”

That’s all he wanted.

“Because it is upsetting!” she snapped, her body moving with her, angry. “I do not want to know, Peter.”

“Gamora, I –”

“My planet’s traditions are dead, okay, dead, just like my people – stop trying to push me into carrying them on!”

Peter felt like his stomach had fallen out of his ass in that moment, like he’d been punched in the gut; he was an idiot.

He knew that her home world was a sensitive topic, and with this version of her only having actually escaped from the cruel hand of Thanos a few years ago, it must be more difficult than ever to think about it. Peter hadn’t considered that until that moment.

“Woah – hey, hey, okay, I’m sorry,” he said, his hands up showing he meant no harm. “I didn’t… I didn’t think of it like that. I…” he trailed off, not knowing how to carry on.

Silence fell between the two; Peter fidgeting now and Gamora avoiding looking at him.

Peter was the first to build the courage back up to speak.

“'Mora –”

“I apologise for shouting,” she interrupted him.

“Hey, no, it’s fine – it’s all good.”

Taking cautious steps towards her, he held open his arms and she stepped into his embrace.

“I shouldn’t have pushed this,” he mumbled, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just… too painful. I don’t want to know,” she told him, weakly, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” he comforted, his hand moving through her hair. He needed to think of something to make her feel better. Anything. “You know, we don’t have to do stuff traditionally. We could elope.”

“El– what?” she said, drawing back to look at him, confused.

“Elope. Like, run away and get married in secret.”

She contemplated his suggestion for a moment, then offered, “Or we could just not go overboard. No flower arrangements, no bridesmaids, no ridiculously tall cakes… no big, grand, event… just us and our little family – no strangers you have befriended from your drunken nights out –”

“Hey – Landan and Cosmo are awesome fellas!” he defended, though smiled, and she rolled her eyes. He mentally sighed at the fact he’d managed to calm her a little. “Something small, with no over-the-top Terran traditions sounds great… but, I mean, we can still slow-dance, right?”

Gamora nodded, holding him closer.

“I am sorry, ‘Mora,” he said, hugging her tighter, and feeling her squeeze him back. “I didn’t think about how,” he searched carefully for his next words. “Uncomfortable it would be for you to have to… well, y’know.”

“It’s okay. Just, please, next time you promise to do something – do it.”

“Gotcha," he replied, trying to not to let the memory of the last time he had failed to live up to a promise upset him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and reviews on this fic (and all the others) btw


	4. Terra

Being back on Terra was never easy for Peter. He’d been adamant most of his life that he would never return to his home planet; it was where his mother had died and he thought he would never be able to get past that. But he’d had to return to Terra many years ago, to team up with others and fight Thanos, and he’d left feeling worse than he ever thought he would.

Not only had he returned to the planet his mother had died on, the planet he’d been abducted from, but he’d also gained and lost the love of his life, that'd he'd lost once already, all in one day. He swore the planet was cursed, or maybe it was just him. 

After the battle, he’d left Terra and told himself he would never return.

But now he found himself back there, in a glistening hotel pool, on vacation with the rest of the Guardians. He thought a trip might make it up to Gamora after he’d upset her about her planet’s wedding traditions. He felt incredibly guilty about the whole situation and, even though she’d told him it was fine and that she was no longer upset, found himself asking people he knew, who worked at the hotel, to set them up with a suite for all the Guardians.

It frightened him how relaxed he felt. Though, before they’d landed, he had freaked out. They had been back to Terra two times since the battle, both times to stay in this same hotel for a break from saving the galaxy, and both times he’d wanted to turn around at the very last minute.

He couldn’t help but panic, every time, once Terra was in sight, but Gamora and Mantis would calm him down and remind him that it was his idea. Before they’d actually gone through with the first ever trip, he’d made the suggestion that they all go to the planet to relax and so he could catch up with what had changed since he had been gone. There were a lot of things that had changed since the 1980’s when he was a little boy; it was terrifying yet thrilling to experience it all at once.

Being on the planet wasn’t that bad, so long as he didn’t think about his mother or the battle for too long.

He enjoyed many things on Terra, but one of his favourite parts was the pool at the hotel. It felt different to the other pools he’d been in, mainly on Xandar. It was just nicer somehow. The only thing better than the pool was the sight of Gamora in it, sprawled out on a bed float, sunglasses on, and the sun practically making her glow. She told him, every time they visited Terra, that the sun was one of the things she loved most about it. Though, he remembered her also saying that about the glow of the moon during the night.

“I can always sense when you are staring, Peter.”

Smiling at the sound of her voice, he swam to her, resting his hands on the side of her float.

“Hey,” he said, and she moved her sunglasses onto the top of her head, looking at him.

“It was a good idea to come here. It’s very relaxing. Though, you’ve been quite quiet, are you enjoying yourself?” she asked, placing a hand on his.

“I’m alright, just quiet ‘cause I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“Everything and nothing,” he shrugged. “What d’ya say that once we’re done here, we go get freshened up and go shopping or something?”

“You’re getting better at avoiding the topic,” she commented, but smiled. “Shopping sounds good.”

“You got your ring, right?”

“Upstairs in the suite,” she said with a nod.

“You seem to wear a lot of them,” he pointed out, running his thumbs over her fingers, and over her engagement ring. He tried his best not to smile like a dork.

“Every ring I own has a special memory attached to it; I love them. I received my first ever ring from Nebula, it’s too small so I have to wear it further up my finger,” she wiggled her index finger as she spoke, the sun reflecting off the silver around it.

His stomach did a flip.

“I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never told you?” she asked, creasing her brow.

“Uh, no.”

A sickness washed over Peter then. He often forgot that this version of Gamora wasn’t the one he had met back on Xandar all those years ago. But times like this made him experience the same deep panic he had felt when he had heard she’d died. Gamora, now, was telling him things that Gamora, then, had never mentioned; and he thought he had known everything about her.

“Well, now you know,” she said, and he could tell the smile that accompanied it was slightly forced. He knew that she knew exactly what was going on in his mind. “If you ever have any questions, Peter, you know that you can just ask.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

She raised her hand, a questioning look in her eyes, and Peter nodded a little, giving her permission to place said hand on his cheek.

“Are we staying here for your birthday?” she asked, changing the topic of conversation to clear any strange tension in the air.

“Probably, the guy who runs this place said we could stay for as long as we liked.”

She nodded, then said, “Let’s go get ready.”

Once they’d made it back to their room, Peter and Gamora showered and Gamora sat by the mirror to brush her hair. It was a sight he’d never get used to, seeing her in just a towel and completely content, he never wanted to get used to it.

Sitting behind her where she sat on the floor, his legs stretched out either side of her, he placed a sweet kiss to her bare shoulder.

“Do you want to do it?” she asked, glancing at him in the mirror.

“No, no, just wanna watch. And be with you,” he replied, offering her a cheery smile, leaning back on his hands.

He thought for a moment, wondering if he should say what he was thinking. She’d looked a little uncomfortable in the pool after talking about her rings, and it was bothering Peter.

“Hey, ‘Mora?”

“Mhm?” she acknowledged him, but kept her eyes on herself.

“Are you happy?”

That’s when her eyes moved to him in the mirror.

“Of course, I am. Why do you ask? Are you not happy?”

His hands automatically moved to her waist, to comfort her, as he shook his head quickly hoping to clarify things. “I’m happy! Really happy. I was just wondering if you were, that’s all.”

“What makes you think I’d be anything but?”

“Nothing,” he kissed her shoulder. “Nothing. Don’t panic.”

“I’m not,” she said, simply, but the slight frown on her lips said otherwise.

“You’d tell me if you were ever… unhappy, though, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d make it extremely clear, yes.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay. Good,” he said, smiling, kissing her shoulder again.

/

The mall was chaotic to Peter, and Mantis wasn’t the biggest fan of it either. It was loud, overbearing and crowded. Rocket, Drax and Groot had decided to stay at the hotel stating that the mall just ‘wasn’t their scene’, so it was just Peter, Gamora and Mantis. He honestly didn’t mind it.

Rocket, a long time ago, had designed each of the Guardians, other than Peter, something they could wear that altered their appearance. Mantis’ was a pair of glasses, that she found far too amusing, and Gamora’s was a ring. They made the two aliens appear more Terran, so that people wouldn’t stare. 

Mantis’ glasses changed the way her eyes looked, and made it look as though she had no antennae, and Gamora’s ring changed the colour of her skin from green, as well as the structure of her browbone and cheekbones. The only thing it didn’t alter was her scars, but Peter felt oddly comforted by that. 

It did kind of weird Peter out, and amaze him but mainly just weirded him out. He thought it was a brilliant invention but didn’t like that it actually worked – it was so strange to see it in action.

“Mantis, you okay?” he asked, jogging to catch up with the two women who had moved away as he was lost in thought.

“This place is full of so many emotions; people are happy yet angry, frustrated and panicked all at the same time. It is very overwhelming,” replied Mantis, hugging herself.

“Would you like to go back to the hotel?” asked Gamora, stopping and turning to face the uncomfortable looking woman.

“No, no, I would like to see what this place contains.”

“Why don’t we go get something to eat or drink?” suggested Peter. “That’ll be relaxing, right? There’s a coffee shop over there,” he pointed out.

Mantis followed his pointed finger and nodded, “That could be helpful.”

Once in the coffee shop, Peter ordered their drinks and carried them over to the others who had sat at a table by an open window, presumably, so Mantis wouldn’t feel closed in.

“Got you a cold one, Mantis. Think the woman said it was a fruit cooler,” he said, handing the drink to a grateful Mantis who immediately took its straw into her mouth and slurped it. “Got you an iced lemonade,” he handed a tall glass to Gamora, who gave him a light smile. 

“Nice to see you remembered my favourite drink from here,” she said, then sipped it.

'Here' meaning the planet. The first time they’d been on vacation to Terra, Peter had handed Gamora, who had been sitting with her feet in the pool, a glass of lemonade and she’d told him how refreshing and enjoyable it had been; he’d taken note of that. It was something he had gotten to experience for the first time with the now-Gamora and that very thought made him smile.

“I forget nothing,” he grinned, sitting beside her and resting his arm along the top of her chair.

He sipped at his own drink, a scolding hot macchiato that he’d ordered purely because it was a funny word to him (he’d had to point at it and get the staff member to pronounce it, only making him chuckle), and now he was regretting buying it because he thought it tasted disgusting.

Gamora must have noticed the grimace on his face, because she slid her glass along the table towards him. He gave her a shy smile, and took a mouthful of her lemonade. Damn, it was good.

“Where are we going first?” asked Mantis, finally ceasing chugging on her drink.

“Well, I heard there’s a music store around here. It’d be cool to see what kind of devices and stuff they have to listen to music on these days, ‘cause I think even my Zune’s a little outdated now.”

He didn’t sound as confident in his suggestion as he would have liked. Often the Guardians, mainly Rocket, would complain or groan whenever he mentioned music and it made him feel sad. He would never admit that to anyone though, other than Gamora, and he knew that Mantis could tell anyway. Rocket and Drax just didn’t show as much of an interest in music as Peter did, and found that winding him up about it was amusing. Gamora, Mantis and Groot were the only ones who shared a similar passion for music and truly understood how Peter felt about it. 

“Going there sounds like a good idea, Peter,” smiled Gamora, squeezing his knee in reassurance after she must have noticed the wariness on his face.

/

The music store was even better than he thought it would be. The music playing in it from the speakers wasn’t exactly his taste but he didn’t hate it. Gamora and Mantis seemed to be enjoying themselves too; Gamora flipping through what Peter knew were vinyl records, and Mantis dancing around to the music as she picked up items to look at – they looked like little figures with wobbling heads.

“You like them?” he asked, standing behind Gamora and looking over her shoulder at the vinyl’s.

“They are intriguing. Did you ever own any?”

“My grandad had a couple. Their player is really cool, you put it on this thing that makes them spin and this needle, like, rests on them and makes the music play – it’s crazy – awesome – how it works… to me anyway.”

There was that feeling again. The feeling that he was being too excitable and annoying her about music.

“It is awesome,” she smiled, reassuringly, but moved away from the vinyl’s and towards something smaller. “What are these?”

“Uh,” he squinted at the shelves label. “CD’s… wait!” he picked one up. “These already existed when I still lived here. Man, I remember wanting one of their players for ages – you could get portable ones, so you could take them wherever you went!”

“You could take your Walkman wherever you went,” she pointed out.

“Well, yeah, and I loved that thing… a lot…” he kicked back the memories of watching his Walkman being shattered before his eyes. “But these sounded so awesome at the time. I would’ve still used my Walkman even if I’d had a CD player.”

He riffled through the CD’s, trying to find anything familiar. 

“No way! They have 80’s music, look!” he declared, happily, thrusting a CD case in front of her face. “’Now That’s What I Call The 80s’!”

She smiled, opening her mouth to respond but was stopped by the sound of Mantis shrieking. Her glasses hung from her face, one of the arms broken, and she was covering the top of her head.

He shot Gamora a worried look, and she took the CD’s from him so he could help Mantis. They had to rush off, find somewhere where there weren’t many people so Peter could try and fix the glasses.

/

It was the night-time now, just after midnight. The trip to the mall had been somewhat of a disaster. When Peter and Mantis had returned to the music store, they hadn’t been able to find Gamora. Peter had panicked, assuming the worst, until Gamora appeared, walking back from their hotel. He had kicked off, yelling at her for just walking off, and then stormed off to their hotel room, not giving her a chance to explain herself.

He shifted at the sound of the door opening, but didn’t turn around.

“Peter –”

“Leave me alone, Gamora,” he snapped. “… for a little longer,” he added, feeling bad for sounding so harsh.

He was upset that she’d just disappeared. He thought she’d – 

“Can I just –”

“Leave,” he huffed, rolling his face into his pillow.

He heard her sigh, then another sound, before she said, “Happy birthday, Peter.” Then the door clicked shut.

He remained on the bed, upset, for a little while longer. She shouldn’t have just walked off like that, he thought. Anything could have happened to her. He knew Gamora was strong, stealthy, could take care of herself, but he didn’t like that she had just disappeared. He’d felt sick to his stomach when he couldn’t find her, the panic making him sweat and his heart pound in his ears. 

Getting up, he walked to the dresser to change for bed when he noticed a box on top of it. Gamora must have left it there. Slipping the lid off, he peered into it curiously. 

Inside the box was a smaller one – a portable CD player – and a selection of CD’s, including the one he had waved in Gamora’s face back at the store. Now, his shoulders slumped and a pool of regret filled his stomach; he’d been a jerk, yet again.

Slipping the lid back on, he carried the box with him into the common area of their hotel suite where he found Gamora sitting in between the open balcony doors; staring up at the moon, no doubt. The way she stiffened was noticeable as he approached her, but other than that she didn’t show any sign that she knew he was there.

Placing the box down, he sat beside her, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands. She brought her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs, and kept her focus on the sky. Her face was a little obscured behind her knees, and Peter didn’t like that he couldn’t read her expression.

“I’m sorry. I was a dick. I should have let you explain why you disappeared,” he eventually said, his eyes not leaving her. She no longer wore the ring that altered the way she looked and Peter was grateful to see the familiar face again when she did look at him for a quick second.

“I shouldn’t have just walked away. After you and Mantis left, I thought I’d get you your present,” she cleared her throat. It was obvious to Peter then that she had been crying. “I came back here so I could hide it, so you wouldn’t question what I had bought if you saw me carrying anything. I made a mistake.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, you should be able to do whatever you want without me freaking out about it. I just… it’s hard, y’know… but I acted like a child about it – yelling at you, storming off before you could tell me anything, and shutting myself in our room. I’m sorry.”

He offered her a shy smile when she turned her head to him, her hand combing up to brush a small tear from her cheek that had forced its way out. He was pretty sure she’d been crying because of the way he’d reacted, how he’d shouted at her and stormed off. 

“Have you looked through the choice of CD?” she asked, changing the subject, wiping the back of her hand over her face again. “My translator was struggling with some words I had to read… so I’m not certain if I picked up the correct ones or not.”

He shuffled closer to her, propping the box on his lap, but she remained hugging her legs.

“You got the 80s one – and I can’t thank you enough,” he smiled. 

Taking off the lid, he pulled out a few CD cases.

“Fleetwood Mac, David Bowie, Pink Floyd – you got them right,” he grinned, bumping his shoulder with hers. He put them back in the box, quickly looking through the others. “You did a good job, babe, but you didn’t have to.”

“It’s your birthday, you deserve a present. The way you spoke about the player, it seemed like you really liked the idea of having one. It is not exactly up-to-date, but it’s something different… something you’ve never experienced before.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s true,” he nodded. “Damn, I’m messing up a lot lately, aren’t I?”

“You have your good days and your bad days,” she stopped hugging her legs, instead placing an arm around Peter to rub his back. She was always comforting him, even when she was upset. “Just like the rest of us.”

“Nobody’s as bad as I am, though, I’m so stupid. You asked me not to pry, not to go searching for your planets wedding traditions but I went ahead and did it… you did absolutely nothing wrong today and I flipped out on you.”

“Those are just examples of your bad days. Your good days outweigh your bad, trust me.”

Leaning into her, he rested his head on her shoulder, and took her hand in his.

“You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

“I learned from the best,” she replied, simply.

Then they sat in silence, looking up at the shining moon. He felt content in her hold, telling himself he was crazy for ever telling her to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and kudos on this fic :)


	5. Cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit naff, I think, but here you go

“I’m sorry, do you find this funny?”

Peter bit the inside of his cheeks, refraining from joining in on the laughter. Gamora stood looking mightily unimpressed, hands on hips, eyes narrowed at the snickering raccoon.

All of the Guardians stood in their hotel suite common area, Drax’s booming laughter echoing through it at the sight of Gamora. 

It was Peter’s birthday and he’d planned out his entire day; buy booze, dance, drink the booze, play video games with Groot, bake a cake; it had only gone a little wrong. Peter was adamant it was amusing.

“No, no, not at all,” the raccoon, Rocket, hissed, chuckling. “Just you’re meant – to be this almighty –warrior – and you can’t even – dodge a piece of – cake.”

“I am Groot!”

“Don’t you start,” snapped Gamora, pointing a warning finger at the tree sitting on the counter. “Peter,”

Uh oh.

“Yeah, babe?” said Peter, swallowing his laughter. Trying to take her seriously was proving difficult what with the jam dripping from her hair onto her nose.

“Do not ‘yeah, babe’ me. You were meant to be in charge here while I showered.”

She really didn’t seem in the mood for any of the Guardians shenanigans, Peter thought. He wondered if she was still upset after what had happened between them the night before. They’d went to bed as though nothing had happened, but Peter knew Gamora hadn’t slept. She’d been constantly moving around, wriggling away from his touch, and flipping her pillow repeatedly.

“That’s why we don’t leave Quill in charge,” chimed in Rocket.

“Why were you having a food fight in the first place?” asked Gamora, her angry eyes on her fiancé.

“We were baking a cake to celebrate Quill’s birthday,” said Drax, his laughter subsiding. “Then he and Rocket started arguing and Rocket declared a cake war.”

“Did he now,” snarled Gamora. “You started this, Rocket, you clean it up.”

“Hah!” 

Everyone’s attention turned to Peter and his smug smile fell.

“You too, Peter,” she said, wiping the jam away and flicking her hand so it plopped onto the floor.

“What?!”

Of course Rocket starting a food fight would lead Peter into trouble. Damn trash panda. 

“You clearly had a part in this,” she said, gesturing towards his cake covered hands that he was unsuccessfully trying to hide; his innocent smile proving to be no use either. “Mantis?”

Antennae were the only thing visible of Mantis who had hidden herself behind the couch when the fight had moved into the living area. She slowly raised, her wide eyes now visible, and looked sheepishly towards Gamora.

“Let’s leave the boys to it,” smiled Gamora, gesturing for Mantis to follow her. Mantis ran out of the room after her but Peter didn’t miss the cheeky glint in her eye. Well played.

/

“Yes?”

The persistent knocking finally came to a stop when Gamora spoke, and Peter slipped into the room.

“You have not showered yet,” she stated, lowering her book. Peter shook his head ‘no’, cake sponge crumbling out of his hair. “Well, thanks to you, I had to have another shower.”

He pulled his shirt over his head and tugged down his pants, leaving him in his boxers and cake covered socks. The look on Gamora’s face told him she thought he looked ridiculous but endearing all the same. She often looked at him like that, he didn’t mind it. He knew he had jam smeared all over his face, looking like an idiot, but he didn’t care.

Taking the book out of her hands, he crawled over her. A noise of protest was all she could manage, making no move to reach for the item, letting Peter drop it onto the nightstand.

“Peter,” she warned, but it only made him smile.

“What?”

“You know what.”

His hands kept him up, his face inches from hers, and he smirked.

“I don’t think I do.”

“I have just showered, do not get me covered in that sticky, sugary nonsense again.” 

“Oh c’mon, everybody loves cake.”

Her breathing became heavier when he moved his face closer to hers. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and he licked some jam from the corner of them, watching her swallow as he did. He loved working her up.

“It is… pleasant. It is a shame I never had the opportunity to taste this one.”

Result!

“There’s still some left,” his voice was low, husky almost. “Here, try some.” Lowering his head, he caught her lips with his in a gentle kiss.

At first, he thought she was into it. Turns out not.

“Mmm – no,” she said, pushing him away. “I’m not… I’m not in the mood, Peter.”

Moving his head back, his brow furrowed, he gave her a concerned look; her voice sounded shaky now and it worried him.

“Is this about what happened last night?” he asked.

Pushing him back, she used the new space to sit up properly and Peter flopped onto his side beside her. Wanting to comfort her, he put his hand on her leg and stroked his thumb over it.

“It’s fine… I just didn’t sleep very well.”

“I noticed.”

“Sorry –” her voice cracked, and Peter immediately sat up to hold her shoulder.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he said softly, squeezing her shoulder, encouragingly. “Tell me.” But Gamora’s only response was to cover her face with her hands; she’d always been the type of person to never want anyone to see her cry. “’Mora, I’m sorry about yesterday, I messed up, I should never have kicked off –”

“It’s not about the fact you shouted at me,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands. “We’ve had plenty of… moments like that.”

“Then what is it?”

Gamora shook her head. Peter knew how difficult she could be to get to open up; she’d been just like that when they’d first met, but he’d eventually helped her break out of the habit.

“Gamora, come on, you can tell me anything. If it’s upsetting you, I think it’s best you tell me. It’s not good to bottle stuff up.”

Shoulders slumping, she dropped her hands back into her lap and Peter felt his own need to cry at the sight of her tears. He hated seeing her upset.

“It hurt seeing you so… afraid,” she confessed. “When you saw me, you looked like you’d seen a ghost… It made me think about,” she cleared her throat, ridding the lump there. “About how losing her must have felt for you… how that feeling, that fear, is something that is going to stay with you. I wish you had never had to go through that.” 

Peter listened closely to every word, but one stood out most to him.

“Her? Why did you say her?”

That’s when Gamora started fidgeting, playing with her fingers, and avoiding Peter’s eyes.

“Gamora,” he pressed.

Sighing, she closed her eyes and said, “Are we really still going to carry on with this façade? That I’m her. That I’m your Gamora. It’s been two years and it still doesn’t feel right.”

“W-what are you talking about? You are Gamora.”

He couldn’t deny that he had felt this way at first, felt like she was a different person who just so happened to look like his Gamora but wasn’t. But now he’d accepted, or at least he was pretty sure he had, that she was the same Gamora. He hadn’t thought much about how confusing and painful it must be for her, he’d always been too focused on how painful it was for him. It was an incredibly confusing and agonising situation. But he knew, that no matter what, he loved her.

“Sometimes it doesn’t feel like I am. I… I worry that,” she paused, opening her eyes and looking down at her hands. “I worry that you don’t see me as her… that I can’t live up to her.”

“Stop with the ‘her’. You’re you. You’re Gamora.”

“Am I? Because it can sometimes feel like I’m a whole other person who’s living another person’s life. She spent those four years with you, then I just… appeared and… replaced her.”

Peter held Gamora’s shoulders, turning her to face him, and tilted his head so he could look her in the eye.

“Listen to me, okay,” he started. “If I, or any of the others, have ever made you feel like you’ve… replaced that other version of yourself then I’m sorry – truly, Gamora. But you have to know that you are Gamora – the one and only you, and I love you. I love you and only you.”

She went to speak but Peter started again.

“We came searching for you after the battle because we wanted to find you, to bring you home, to show you that you had a family – no matter what point in time you come from – and that we all still care about you.”

Resting her forehead against his, she allowed him to wipe away the tears that streamed down her face, and said, “I should have spoken to you about this sooner.”

“Yeah, don’t – don’t hold stuff like that in. You can talk to me about anything,” he drew back then grinned. “You got some cake on your forehead now,” he chuckled, wiping it away with his thumbs.

“I know that, now, you don’t think I’ve replaced… my other self, but you must have at some point.”

“I found it hard to comprehend the fact that you could be the same person, at first. But I realised, that you are the same person. You’re Gamora. My Gamora. You always will be,” he told her, cupping her face. “Though, I noticed that there were certain things the… other you never told me, and I guess that hurt because I thought I knew you inside and out,” he moved his hands to trace her rings.

“I have never been one to share every detail of myself… with anyone.”

“Yeah, I know, I just… that was weird, y’know. But now I see it as a good thing.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I’ve warmed up to the idea that I don’t know everything about you. Just means I get to sit and listen to you tell me awesome stories about your life that are brand new to me, and that’s pretty cool.”

Being with this Gamora for two years still hadn’t been enough time for her to properly open up to Peter, though it seemed that now she was starting to.

“You are a very optimistic person, Peter Quill,” she offered him a small smile.

“You know you love it.”

“That I do.”

“We’re getting married,” he reminded her, trying to make her think of something happy.

“I know,” her smile wider a little, and squeezed his hands. 

“You do still want to, right?”

“Definitely,” she was quick to answer. “More than I’ll ever be able to put into words… We are lucky that we get to be together. So many lives were taken because of Thanos, and they can’t come back, but for some reason… the universe gave me a second chance. It brought me back, and you, it gave us a second chance, Peter. We must have done something right?”

“I mean, we are the guardians of the galaxy, after all. We deserve lots of chances.” 

Then he brought their joined hands up to his lips, kissing her ring finger, before placing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“That cake does taste good.”

“I knew you’d like it,” he grinned. “I really do love you, Gamora. I know that… stuff gets real confusing sometimes but we’re in this together. We’ve just gotta make sure we always tell each other when we feel this way, we shouldn’t hold it in.”

“I know,” she nodded, looking down at their hands then back up at him with a tight smile. “Maybe you should go shower, then we can sleep?”

“Okay,” he said, kissing her.


	6. Fairy Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I’m so inconsistent with updates. I’ve become addicted to watching ‘Say Yes to the Dress’ and ‘90 Day Fiance’, so every time I’m like “oh, I should write” I get distracted, haha. It get’s kinda difficult to write mature stuff sometimes, too, but I wanted this chapter to be mature. I’m in the middle of writing another fic too, a long one, which I’ll be posting week-by-week once this series is finished.
> 
> I also added/changed up some of the old chapters if you want to go back and read

The rest of the week had gone by smoothly; there’d been no more arguing, no more food fights, Drax had only set fire to the suite’s kitchen once more, and Peter and Gamora had pushed all their negative thoughts to one side so they could focus on enjoying their vacation.

Peter had persuaded Mantis into getting Drax, Rocket and Groot to accompany her into the city so that Peter could have some alone time with Gamora. He wanted them to have a little fun on their last day at the hotel, without the sound of his friends causing chaos in the background.

His idea of fun, of course, was staying lazing around all day, in bed or on the couch, while eating junk food and telling Gamora stories of and from Terra. Spending all day with your fiancée doing basically nothing might bore some people, but to Peter, not only was it fun but it also felt like a privilege. After Gamora had ran away, after the battle, he hadn’t seen her for months. Then he hadn’t been able to touch her, be alone with her, sit with her for hours in each other’s arms doing nothing, because she hadn’t known who he was and hadn’t wanted to get to know him for a good number of weeks. So now that he had the chance to just chill out with her, he was more than happy to do so; honoured, even.

Being able to share a bath with his fiancée was also an honour. 

They were settled at opposite ends of the tub, which he loved because he had the perfect view to watch her unwind. She looked serene with her head tilted back and her eyes closed, her entire body submerged up to her shoulders, bubbles clinging to the ends of her hair. It was a sight he would never grow tired of; seeing her at peace with the world.

“Wearing glass on one’s feet sounds incredibly impractical,” she said, shaking her head a little in disbelief and disapproval but not lifting it to look at him. “You told me slippers were supposed to be comfortable, Cinderelle’s don’t sound comfortable at all.”

“Cinderella’s,” he corrected, smoothing his hand of her leg that rested on top of his thigh under water.

“And, if everything were to return to normal at midnight, why didn’t her slippers change or disappear?” she asked, tilting her head to look him in the eyes, now frowning. She didn’t like when things didn’t make sense to her, Peter knew this very well. “And, surely, the Prince would have been able to recognise her without the slipper having to fit her foot. It is not as though her face ever changed… did it?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, shrugging. “There’s lots of different versions of the story but the one I heard didn’t ever explain that part, I don’t think. Maybe I’m remembering it wrong.”

“Different versions?” 

“Well,” he said, continuing to run his hand over her leg. “In the original it’s, like, a magic tree that gives her all the nice stuff, and the slippers are actually golden at some point, and it gets real gruesome.”

“Tell me more,” she cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward a little, intrigued.

“Remember her ugly sisters, yeah?” Gamora nodded. “Well, they start, like, cutting off parts of their feet and stuff to fit into the slipper, then these birds peck their eyes until they’re blind, I think.”

“That is cruel,” she said, but she had the same shine in her eyes as he had seen in them back on Knowhere when he’d told her about people with ‘sticks up their butts’. He knew that she secretly found it amusing, after all it was all made up. 

“I guess,” he said, shrugging again. “But they deserved it.”

“Perhaps,” she said, adding, “These women sound awfully desperate to get this Prince to fall in love with them,” then she moved her legs so she was sat criss-crossed and scooped some bubbles into her hands.

Peter had felt uneasy at first about putting bubble bath in. He didn’t exactly have the greatest memory of bubbles but Gamora had taken his hand and said, “We should reclaim them.” And so, they did.

“They just wanted his money, the one who truly loved him was Cinderella.”

Placing the first scoop of bubbles onto his hair, she gathered some more, saying, “I suppose. She sounded like she needed someone loving and caring in her life because hers sounded horrible… trapped away from everyone else, obeying orders simply to stay… alive…”

She started forming a beard over his chin with the bubbles, and Peter felt obliged to sway the topic, feeling that Gamora was starting to become unsettled by memories of her own past; her horrible life.

“Hey, I just shaved that thing off,” he said, moving to wipe away the beard and chuckling when she swatted his hand away. 

“This is just a temporary replacement,” she smiled, collecting more to make the bubble-beard longer. “I always miss your beard after you’ve shaven it.”

“Oh, yeah? I thought you said I looked scruffy with it.”

“You look ‘scruffy’ when you don’t take care of it, groom it,” she corrected. “And, I don’t like it too long… just long enough to,” she ran her fingertips through the bubbles and over his skin as a way to finish her sentence. Now that he thought about it, the feeling of her fingertips running through his beard was prominent in a lot of his memories. “I like that you kept this,” she said, her fingers now tracing his moustache.

“Oh, I know you’ve always had a thing for the ‘stache,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Hey, hey, do I look like Santa?” He then wobbled his head, the bubbles in his hair slipping, and laughed lowly.

“The fat, red-faced, jolly man whom you told me likes to break into homes and leave presents for children he does not know?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Yes,” she grinned. “But you aren’t fat,” she added, and Peter was grateful for that. 

Gamora didn’t know about what had happened on the ship after the Asgardian, Thor, had appeared, as it was her other self that had been present and not her, so Peter had told her about it. Since then, Peter had started to feel a little less insecure about his weight because she always found some way to make him feel better. He knew he wasn’t actually getting fat. Well, maybe he’d put on a few pounds, but he new that Rocket and Drax just told him he was getting fat so they could torment him.

She wiped the bubble-beard from his face, and slid her hands over the curve of his shoulders, up the back of his neck, and laced her fingers through his hair. A flurry of goosebumps surged over his arms and a shiver trailed down his spine, from her touch and from the now tepid water. 

“You’re beautiful,” she said, genuinely, and kissed the tip of his nose. “I’d like to hear more fairy tales soon, especially the gruesome ones,” she added.

His hands moved up and down her arms as she rested her forehead against his.

“I can’t remember many of them, but I’ll figure something out.”

Moving with the gentle push of her hands on the back of his head, he caught her lips in a soft kiss.

“We should probably get out, now,” she said, but didn’t move an inch.

“Agreed,” he nodded, moving back.

Eventually, he got out of the tub, helping her out by holding her hand even though he knew she didn’t need any assistance, and wrapped a towel around her.

“You want a massage?” he asked, his own towel now around his waist and one ruffling his hair dry.

“A what?”

“You know what a massage is,” he replied, as though she was acting silly.

“I do, but you’ve never offered to do that for me before.”

Right, he’d forgotten that he’d not given this version of her one yet.

“Well, uh, I’m offering now. You want one?”

“I’d love one,” she smiled, but Peter could see a faint swirl of panic in her eyes. He could tell now that she knew he had done them for her before. He didn’t want her to panic or get upset again at the thought of having replaced her other self, because she hadn’t. He didn’t want her to feel as though she had to live up to some kind of bar that she had set herself before, because she didn’t need to.

“Hey” he said, his hands grasping her shoulders to comfort her. “I’m gonna make this the best massage you’ve ever had. Promise.”

She shot him a wary smile, exiting the bathroom, and Peter wanted to kick himself. But there was always going to be moments like this, he told himself, moments where she was experiencing something with him for the first time again, and he just had to make sure that it went well and that she was comfortable.

Once he left the bathroom, he watched her drying her hair as he pulled on a fresh pair of boxers. After she finished her hair, she lay, as instructed by him, on her stomach on the bed, only in her underpants.

He propped himself over her, knees either side of her hips and began massaging her. It was all purely to keep her relaxed, of course, but the way she moaned as he massaged her shoulders did something to him; he loved it. Massaging had always been something he loved to do for her. When they’d come home after a job, when she was slightly sore and tired, he’d work the tension out of her body. She’d always offer to return the favour but he’d shake his head and start braiding her hair; another perfect way to soothe her. Maybe he could do that after this time, too.

This was now the first time he’d massaged her since she’d came back, and he found that it was now an act that soothed him as well as her. Getting to take away her strain made him feel like he was useful, allowed him to be close to her and physically feel her relax.

“You’re good at this,” she said, her voice laced with nothing but pleasure. “Did you do this for other women?”

“Nah, always too busy with… other stuff,” he chuckled, then winced preparing for her to stiffen.

He knew that anytime his past ‘womanizer’ days were mentioned, Gamora would become uncomfortable, she always did, but this time she just breathed out what was her lightest version of a laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” she teased. 

“Yeah, but, I’m, like, the best idiot there is.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one.”

“And I’m your idiot, of course.”

“Of course,” she agreed, her tone light; Peter could tell she was smiling.

She moaned again and he had to swallow back the desire building up in him. Having her topless, underneath him, and making noises like that was making his pulse quicken, and the back of his neck warm.

“Peter, are you excited?”

“Huh?”

“Your heartrate has shot up; I can hear your heart pounding.”

Damn her brilliant ears. He was amazed she couldn’t hear his thoughts.

“And why would I be excited?” he asked, his thumbs working to undo the knots in her back.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe having your fiancée in this position is just a little too much for you,” she continued to tease.

“Say that again.”

“You’ve got a real thing for that word, haven’t you?” 

“What word?”

He could sense the roll of her eyes.

“Fiancée.”

“Oh, yeah,” he bit his lip. “It’s a sexy word, ain’t it?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I agree.”

Moving his hands to the small of her back, he leaned down so his lips were by her ear. “You’re sexy,” he said, kissing just under her earlobe and sitting back up.

That should be enough to work her up, he thought. And sure enough, he was right.

She turned around underneath him, tugging him down by his shoulders and kissing him. The desire and passion she felt was obvious in her kiss, just as strong as his own, he’d felt it building during their bath, and he marvelled at how she could sound so relaxed when she spoke yet be so aroused. Peter often found it too hard not to sound excited when he himself was turned on.

Moving so he was in between her legs, he tried his best not to rock into her and come undone right then and there. His boxers were already uncomfortable and irritating him and the fact that one of Gamora’s hands was now cupping and pressing him through them didn’t help. Shivering as her hand slipped into his boxers, a low moan came from the back of his throat and he deepened their kiss, pressing her into the mattress.

Kissing down her body, he stopped momentarily to remove her underwear, then placed a featherlight kiss to her navel.

“Is this how massages with you always end?”

Peter laughed, “If you want them to,” then pressed his hands to her inner thighs, keeping her legs open, and started with slow, lingering kisses to her skin.

He’d done this for her many times before and knew just the way she liked it; slow until she gave him the signal. He moved his kisses to her other thigh, his tongue moving over her.

A low moan came from her and she combed her fingers through his hair; the signal.

He shifted his focus to her clit, sucking on it gently and flicking his tongue occasionally. He tried not to smile at the way she responded to him, tugging on his hair and making subtle movements with her hips.

“Peter,” her voice was quiet, breathy, something Peter only ever heard from her in their bedroom during such acts. “Oh, God,” she added, when Peter moved his tongue faster and slid his finger along her entrance. His eyes were closed, but he knew that by now she would have her head tilted back into the pillows and her eyes squeezed shut.

Easing his finger into her, he moaned at the feel of her which only made her hand tighten more in his hair.

He took the way she breathed out his name as another signal, just like the many times they’d done this before, and slipped another finger into her, quickening the movements of his tongue. This granted him another moan from her and one of her legs came up to hook her foot over his shoulder, but he kept the other pinned down. He pushed his fingers in slow but hard, just the way she liked it, and knew when she pressed her heel into his shoulder blade that he had hit the right spot.

“Fuck, Peter, don’t stop.”

There was no chance of that, he thought, not until he’d completed his mission.

He opened his eyes, peering up at her, seeing that her other hand was in her own hair and her mouth open a little. Her head came up briefly from the pillow, enough time for Peter to see her eyes roll back and flutter closed, before her head tilted back into the pillow as her body arched and he felt her tightening around his fingers. 

He gently removed them, but continued to lick and kiss there and her thighs. 

“Peter,” she said, trying to catch her breath at the same time. “Peter, come here,” and she patted the spot next to her.

He did as he was told, crawling back up the bed and laying beside her. She left a lingering kiss on his cheek, then worked her way down his body just like he had done for her.

Lifting his hips for her to remove his underwear, he watched her throw them to the side before putting a hand around him. She moved it up and down its base, her mouth taking the tip of him in and making his eyes roll back with pleasure. She was always so good at it.

Her free hand took one of his, lifting it to her face and Peter took the opportunity to move her hair back then held lightly onto the back of her head. He tried to keep his hips firmly on the mattress as she moved her head up and down, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder.

“’Mora. ‘Mora, I want – oh,” but he couldn’t find the words.

Clearly, she knew what he meant because she stopped her work, moving back up his body to straddle him, taking him in.

Hands on his stomach, she started moving, and he grasped her hips to help control the momentum and angle.

He wanted to speak but he felt like he would choke if he tried. To be honest, he didn’t even know what he would say, he was too lost in pleasure to conversate. 

It didn’t take long for Gamora to climax, nails digging into his forearms and legs clutching him. She kept moving, rolling her hips differently, and Peter squeezed his eyes shut, fingers gripping her thighs, head lifting off the pillow and calling out her name, as he came.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, and she bent down to kiss him. It crossed his mind that they should probably brush their teeth before kissing again, but that thought soon drifted away at the feel of her lips on his.

“I love you,” she said, smiling, and kissing him again. “So much,” she spoke between kisses now. “I’m never going to stop telling you that.”

Once he’d stopped seeing stars, he rolled them over so she was underneath him and mumbled, “You better not,” into their kiss.

The look in her eyes and the way she traced her finger over his facial features melted his heart. 

“Do you think our story could be considered a fairy tale?” she asked.

“Hell yeah… probably one of the gruesome, messed-up ones, but sure,” he grinned, kissing her forehead. 

“I could see you as a Prince,” she said, thoughtfully. “You’re handsome, and kind, and charming – definitely Prince material.”

He couldn’t find any words in that moment, so kissed her instead.

Moving some hair from her face, he finally said, “You could so be a Princess. But, like, a kickass one, y’know. The ones in the Terran fairy-tales aren’t anywhere near as awesome as you’d be.”

“You flatter me, Star-Lord.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to show up for this, and the kudos and reviews - it means so much!!!


	7. The Perfect Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies again for being so inconsistent with this fic. I've been busy lately, this chapter isn't very good (sort of a filling chapter for now), but I have better works in progress - a handful of multiple chapters fics that I will be posting weekly, and some stand-alone ones. Thanks for sticking around :) I'll get better at this, I promise

“Peter,” called Gamora from outside the hotel room. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah, babe, hold on one sec!”

It was time to leave Terra and Peter wasn’t sure how he felt about it. The past week had been a rollercoaster of emotions; feeling down about his mother during the nights and needing Gamora to ease him into sleep, being excited about what the planet had to offer and wanting to explore it all as soon as possible, and panicking when he couldn’t find Gamora.

Leaving Terra wasn’t the end of the world, they could always come back but, even though Peter wanted to explore more of the planet, he also never wanted to step foot on it again. He always felt like this after visiting.

“Peter,” came Gamora’s voice again and he continued packing his bag.

He’d always been sloppy with his packing when he did finally get around to it, something that he knew had always annoyed Gamora, and because of this, he was struggling to fit the last object in.

It was a present he’d picked up for her, something he didn’t want her to see until he gave her it when they were settled back on the ship but it appeared his bag didn’t want things to happen that way.

Pulling out a sweatshirt, he managed to shove the object into the bag with the little bit of free space and sighed happily.

“Are you coming or should I leave you and the bag alone for a little while?” asked Gamora, head sticking out from behind the door.

“Coming, I’m coming,” he said, pulling his hand out of the bag and zipping it up. He closed the door behind them, feeling sad about having to leave such a nice hotel suite. “Wait, wait,” he stopped her from walking away, taking her hand in his. “Come here,” he smiled, tugging her to him and she rolled her eyes.

“We don’t have time for this, Peter.”

“We don't have to be anywhere important,” he said, holding her close. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Peter. Now, we have to go,” she said, trying to step back.

“Wait, one kiss,” he pouted.

“I will not fall for that face,” she said, a stern look on her face.

“Oh, come on.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly kissed him, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“Does that suffice?” she asked, quirking a brow.

“Hmm, one more.”

She groaned but let him kiss her again and pull her flush against him.

“God, can’t you two wait till we at least get back on the ship. Disgusting,” grumbled Rocket from behind Gamora and the two of them pulled apart.

“Shut up,” huffed Peter, watching Gamora walk away. “Why have you always gotta be such a grumpy bastard?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response, following Gamora instead.

Once he caught up with her, she snatched the sweatshirt out of his grip and slipped it on. Her wearing his clothes was something he was never going to get used to the sight of.

"Stop staring, Peter," she said, sounding smug as she walked ahead of him.

One of these days, he thought, she was going to be the death of him.

/

“Are you going to miss Terra, Peter?” asked Mantis once they were all back on the ship, Peter in his pilot seat.

“I guess.”

“Yeah,” said Rocket. “It’s your home planet, why don’t you ever wanna just… go back and live on it?”

“You know why,” snapped Peter. “Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to… I just… this, here with you guys, is my home, I don’t need Ear–Terra.”

Rocket rolled his eyes and swivelled his co-pilot seat to face forward, but Drax placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“We feel the same, Quill. This is our home,” said Drax, offering a small smile and an understanding nod.

“Awesome… well, uh, we should probably head off,” said Peter, and started up the ship as everyone took their seats apart from Gamora who went to her room.

Peter tried to concentrate on flying but the thought of Gamora was eating away at the back of his brain. He was sure he hadn't done anything to upset her that day, but he wasn't certain and that made him worry.

“Hey, can you take over?” he asked Rocket who just nodded. “Hey, buddy, don’t be on that thing for too long,” he told Groot on his way past him, only receiving a grunt in response. “Babe?” he said, opening the bedroom door and seeing her unpacking her bag. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Peter,” she said but he knew her better than that.

“Can I come in?”

She gave him a look. “It’s your room, too, of course you can.”

Approaching her, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her shoulder as she continued to unpack.

“You sure you’re okay ‘cause the way you just threw that shirt down says otherwise.”

He heard her sigh.

“I was just thinking about the conversation we had a little while ago.”

“Uh,” he said, dumbly. “Which one?”

“The one after you went searching for information about my planet behind my back,” she said, and he couldn’t sense her tone, moving out of his embrace to throw clothes in the laundry hamper.

“Oh… what about it? I already said I’m sor–”

“No, no, Peter, I’m not mad.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, sitting down on the bed.

“I… I was just thinking about how harsh I was with you.”

“Hey, no, it’s fine,” he waved her off.

“It isn’t. You just wanted to know a little bit more about me and my planet and I… I was horrible, I’m sorry.”

“'Mora,” he said, gesturing for her to come to him, and she did, standing in between his knees, his hands on the backs of her thighs. “This is about me saying ‘I felt like I knew everything about you, but really, I didn’t’ thing, ain’t it?”

She fumbled around with the shoulder of his shirt, not making eye contact. “I just feel bad… I want you to feel like you know me ‘inside and out’.”

“I know you well enough,” he tried to reassure her. “I don’t need to know about your planet’s traditions if it upsets you. ‘Mora, you weren’t too hard with me, I went behind your back and that was wrong of me,” he said, but she still looked glum. “Can we agree that we were both in the wrong, then? Not just one of us – both of us.”

Nodding, she finally looked at him, squeezing his shoulders. “I love you.”

“You really were serious when you said you were never gonna stop telling me that,” he grinned, smoothing his thumbs over her thighs. “Hey, why don’t I put on some music or something – can put it on the new player you got me?”

She shook her head. "I'm not really in the mood for music... sorry."

"No, don't apologise," he said, patting her hip. "I've got something to give you, anyway."

"Oh, no," she said, looking genuinely concerned. "Not another pair of Crocs, I hope - they hurt my feet... and they're green..."

"No," he laughed. "It's way better than Crocs," he said, getting up and unzipping his bag.

"Anything is better than Crocs," she remarked, lying down on the bed, trying to relax.

He flopped down next to her, "Here," and handed her a large book.

"What's this?" she asked, flipping it over in her hands, tracing its delicate cover.

"A book of Terran fairy tales. You said the other day that you wanted to hear more of them, so..."

"I love it, Peter, thank you," she smiled, not taking her eyes off the book as she flicked through it.

"It's all Terran English, and I know you've got your translator and everything but I figured... well, fairy tales are typically read to someone... thought I could read a few to you sometime."

"Why don't we start now?" she said, handing him the book and closing her eyes.

"Okay," he beamed, opening it. "We'll start with - what the hell!" he exclaimed as the ship trembled, almost knocking him off the bed. "Rocket!"

"Ah, whatever!" Rocket called back.

Peter shook his head and frowned, annoyed, but Gamora laughed and he immediately felt better.


End file.
